Oh please

@causeitsmyboat​

“I’ve got a joke for you. I promise it’s a good one this time.”

Sonja wanted to rub at her temples, to alleviate the pain in her head. She wasn’t sure if dealing with Lambert had made her head hurt more, but she was willing to blame her sudden headache purely on him at this point–never mind she’d had it from visiting the crime scene initially yesterday when she was given the case. Tight lipped witnesses always made her job harder, but she’d never run into one before who was so spectacularly annoying as well. She’d certainly remember him, and not fondly while she dug into her research.

There was pressure to find the criminal, before it got out to the news that the ‘man’ wasn’t in custody yet. Then there was her own self imposed pressure to track him down and get the perp in cuffs before he could attack again, and she intended to use herself as bait–it worked nearly every time, most saw a short pretty woman and assumed she was an easy target. She’d taken down mob leaders before with the tactic, a vicious criminal on the run would be no different.

“Or perhaps its a means of self defence. In case something were to go awry.” She replied, her tone sweet as could be and hiding the insult. Sonja knew she’d hear about it if her boss told her a witness had complained she’d called them thick skulled, but she didn’t presently care all too much. Sonja was dead certain she’d see this man later, interfering with her work again. She would even put money on it, if she had a partner on the case to share her findings with. No matter, she worked best alone. She was used to it.

“If luck’s in your favour, this might be the only time we meet. Keep my card, let me know if you suddenly remember anything. Stay safe out there.” Sonja returned the smile, collecting the paperwork and headed for the door. She wanted away from him, to dump the paperwork off at the office, then to go back to her own apartment. Sonja needed to take some tylenol and change out of her work gear, into civies that would help her blend in with the crowd and hopefully lure out the attacker.

Night had fallen by the time she’d made it back to the scene, blending in among the other civilians. There was a popular restaurant just up the street, and a nightclub two blocks down. It was a busy area, made for easy pickings for someone looking to cause trouble. Sonja had settled on the outdoor patio of a cafe, sipping on a plain macchiato and watching the street discretely. Her head was hurting again, she decided to blame stress this time. Too many people were out, casualties could be high if a hostage was taken.

A suspicious figure caught her eye, shadowing a group of women and she sprang into action. She put down a few bills for her server and got up, passing by the other women and their lurker. A lone woman at night would be a more tempting target, if it was just a petty criminal and not the perp she was looking for then she’d cuff him all the same and call a beat cop to come collect them.

The sense of being watched hit her, making her feel unsettled but she pushed it off to blame the lurker–a subtle glance to a window front told her that the man was following her now. No backup for him in sight, nor was there any for her–but she wasn’t the one who would need it.

A turn down alleyway under the pretence of a shortcut, and her stalker decided to attack. Her shoulder was grabbed and she was shoved towards the side of a building, but Sonja resisted and lashed out at her attacker. A few things occurred to her while she began to grapple with the man. One, he was one of the palest people she’d ever seen, enough to make her appear to be tan. Two, he was far stronger than the wiry frame looked, she’d have to be careful not to let him grab a good hold of her or she’d be in true trouble. And three, he was hissing at her like an angry cat, snapping his jaws at her and trying to break the hold she had that was keeping him from getting too close.

If she didn’t know any better, she’d say it looked like he had fangs, like one of the vampyr in the stories her father had told her of as a child. Fangs like it had seemed her father had at times, but she’d always dismissed it as childish nonsense. 

Anger started to bubble up in her gut, doing everything she could to try to make her attacker loose ground while dealing with the blinding pain in her head. Movement at the alley’s entrance made her focus break, looking over for a moment to make sure she wasn’t about to face another attacker, giving her opponent a window–which the man took to bite down on her arm. Sonja snarled in pain and kicked the man savagely between the legs to down him, more angry about the bite than she was truly hurt.

Lambert knew it wouldn’t the last time he saw her; cops like her had a habit of getting their noses where they shouldn’t. It was good for the victims; especially those who were discarded to the side by the rest of the police force. Such stubbornness helped them. Certainly didn’t help him though, as he continued with tracking down his target once night had started to fall. The quicker he caught that asshole the better for everyone.        Going back to the scene of the crime was easy enough, waiting his time was easy as well. He did it a lot in this line of work, his natural impatience reserved for things outside of work. As well as partly trained away.        His werewolf mutations allowed him to smell out most of the people around him; still not as good as an actual werewolf though. Well enough that could he remember old scents, especially those he had memorized as dangerous. While he might not be able to tell a vampire and a fae apart by smell or after just a few moments in their presence... he could in fact find his specified targets very well.

It was a shame that agent Corvin had decided to show up and make it all into a hassle for him. She’d gotten involved before he had a chance to properly sniff his enemy out; now forced to follow her instead and react to the situation rather than plan it.       Despite his personal opinion on the city’s local police force, he couldn’t very well let her die to this vampire; a powerful serial killer of the worst sort. The one who went after humans as well, with no care for being found out or not. 

Lambert swore under his breath when she began to actually fight with the vampire; not her choice but still, it made the situation so much more dangerous. He was running by now, drawing the short shotgun from behind his lower back; checking that it was loaded before holding it in a secure grip.        Charging up to the two fighters, he smelled blood in the air, before putting the muzzle of the weapon against the vampire’s side and fired off. 

Lambert had a pretty good eye on his turf near his gang’s hideout; in particular thanks to his enhanced senses. He was still far away from the hideout; near the roads where people traveled back and forth. Couldn’t risk being too close to that place after a full moon.       It was now morning, and he had yet to shift back to his human form; even though he’d regained full sense of his body and mind after the troublesome full moon night. It was easier to walk back like this, rather than running around naked. 

A lot of things pissed off Lambert but one of the easiest ways was going after anyone in his gang. Threatening them in his presence brought up that rage so far, that his body couldn’t hold down the shapeshift. Before the poor bastard could utter another word; Lambert had lunged forward; shifting mid jump with such speed that it nearly winded him with how much it hurt.       He’d landed on the human, knocking them into the floor; maws only inches from the man’s face, snarling and growling. It’d brought an apology out of them real quick and Lambert had lifted his paw enough for them to squeeze away from his grip and leg it out the backdoor. 

This was bad; very bad. He wasn’t sure why there’d been Pinktertons around here of all people. The very worst lot for an outlaw like him and they’d caught him in his werewolf form to boot; of course they had opened fire.       A wanted man; the Black Wolf, before their eyes? Even his werewolf appearance was known to them, perhaps more than his human one. A few bullet wounds he could handle; they’d heal within minutes, but the possible aftermath? That was a whole other matter. Not to say the reason for their presence here. If they had found out about his camp... 

@ivakir​ asked:  "I made friendship bracelets for us." || lost the meme 

“’Course you fucking did.” He doesn’t even want to know, as he glanced up at her for a moment before paying attention to his drink once again. Taking a long, slow swig from it before groaning and tilting his head back.       “Okay fiiine, I’ll bite. How do they look? What off putting colour are they in, neon green? I prefer pink. Do I get money if I use it?”